Stress Relief
by RandomRyu
Summary: Booker is stressed about the recent happenings since he's arrived in Columbia. Robert is willing to help him relax. This is basically just a PWP. One-shot. Booker bottoming.


Booker was exhausted. Exhausted, bruised, and he was pretty sure that he had pulled something from maneuvering so quickly around sharp corners. He was damn lucky that he hadn't been shot down and killed by this point with all of the men after him. With only a pistol and two recently acquired vigors to defend himself, he didn't have a moment to let his guard down in the last hour or so.

It was no surprise that the bar he had entered was practically empty, save for a few dead bodies of former customers littering the establishment. The sight didn't deter him at all, and he continued to gather dropped and abandoned objects from those that had been in the area before of all of the chaos started. In the middle of replenishing his salts, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice sound behind him.

"You look a bit tired."

He didn't have to turn around to know that it was one of those weird twins that had dropped him off at the lighthouse and ran into at the carnival. They seemed to be everywhere, and for the time being, he tried not to think about it too much. It didn't make sense, and it just made his head ache.

"Goddammit-" Booker cursed, turning around; throwing a glare at the other male. "You can't just do that."

"Well, I just did, didn't I?" The redhead raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Booker for a moment before turning his gaze back down at the surface of the bar he was cleaning. His arm worked in wide circles as he cleaned, and it looked like the section of the bar that he was working on was already clean, but hey, it was something to do while he waited for the man to show up to his next location. The bar itself was already littered with corpses, cold food, and spilled beer, so it wasn't a very showy place already, even in its prime. But again, it was something to keep Robert occupied while he waited for the false shepherd to arrive. If he was one to drink, he would have made himself something and relaxed while he stood around. But he wasn't quite fond of drinking alcohol. The taste made his nose feel odd and the bitterness of some liquors made his throat burn. The food served at the bar didn't seem very appetizing, either. So, he turned to idle tidying up.

The redhead's sassy comment made Booker scowl. He slid his pistol into the holster at his hip, letting out a sigh as he sat down at one of the bar stools. It really wasn't a time to slack off and sit down, but Booker couldn't help it. He'd been running around for a good while, dodging bullets and killing cops, for God's sake. He'd had his fair share of killing men back in Wounded Knee, so it wasn't like he was suddenly thrown into battle and had to kill to defend himself. If he said it didn't bother him at least a little bit, he would be lying. Taking another human's life, no matter how ignorant or evil, had an effect on even the most hard-hearted person. And piled on top of the other shitty happenings in Booker DeWitt's life, it just made his guilt and overall depression even worse. He never wanted to witness war again, but now, he was in the middle of a vast battlefield that was the whole floating city of Columbia.

"You look stressed." Robert spoke casually, pausing in his circular movements and placing the used rag off to the side, he leaned on the counter and focused on the distressed man in front of him.

"Of course I am, smartass." Booker narrowed his eyes, taking a quick look around them. "Where's the other one?"

"She's off taking care of other tasks." Robert waved a hand casually, as if dismissing the subject. "Nothing you need be concerned with."

"Wouldn't you rather ask what I'm doing here?" The man added after a few silent moments, raising an eyebrow once again. Booker's eyes stayed narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly.

"What _are_ you doing here? Shouldn't you be...I don't know, bothering someone else, or helping out the other one?"

"The 'other one' has a name, you know."

Booker groaned in annoyance.

"Rosalind." Robert suddenly spoke again. "Her name's Rosalind."

"Well, I didn't know that."

"Now you know." Robert subtly nodded. Before Booker could respond he spoke up once more. "And, I thought I could help you out myself."

"With?" It was Booker's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Your stress." Robert reminded him with another little nod. He steadily made his way over to the opening of the bar off to the side, the click of his fancy shoes against the wooden floor seeming to echo through the barren bar. "I'm not the best at comfort, but I know a certain way that I can distract you from these recent happenings." He sat down on the stool right next to Booker's. It caused a sense of unease due to the two of them being practically alone in the room. The hollow sound of wind travelling through the open doors and distant yelling was the only other noises filling the air.

"And how is that?" Booker swallowed hard, a sudden lump in his throat. The redhead seemed to move in even closer to him, their thighs just barely touching. Robert's gaze was turned down, his hands linked together in his lap almost formally. Seeing such a nervous demeanor on the redhead was odd, even if Booker didn't exactly know him all too personally. He always held up such a stoic, level-headed act; almost robotic in his ways. But even now, as he was being formal as he always was, there was tension between the two of them, making the lump in Booker's throat even worse. As he looked even closer, he realized that that Robert was even blushing.

Robert placed a hand on Booker's knee, making Booker make a small noise of confusion. Even so, he didn't push the hand away or get up from his chair. At this point, Robert was looking right at Booker, and when their gazes met, Robert leaned forwards even more, just enough so that their noses touched. Both of their breaths were short, each feeling the heat of the other's on his lips.

Finally breaking the stillness of the moment, Robert pressed his lips against Booker's. Booker stilled for a moment, but began to return the kiss, finding a steady rhythm of moving lips and tilting their heads. The hand that rested on Booker's knee moved steadily upwards, gently massaging his thigh as it went. The brunette couldn't help but groan when it just was about to reach his crotch, only to track back halfway down his thigh. He spun on his stool partly so that he could face the other man, Robert doing the same and adjusting his position so that he was comfortable.

Booker's hands that were resting at his sides came up to take two handfuls of Robert's jacket, holding him in place as the kiss deepened. Robert's hand trailed up to finally grope Booker through his pants, earning a moan against their joined lips.

Booker panted against Robert's lips, his grip against Robert's jacket collar solid and pulling him closer and closer, little by little. They ended up sliding off of their seats; Robert pressing Booker's back into the side of the bar's counter. His hand still worked at Booker through his pants, the other aimlessly grabbing at Booker's loose vest. Their kisses got only more and more heated until they had to pull back and breathe, staring into each other's eyes. Booker's scruffy cheeks were flushed a deep red, the black of his deep brown eyes dilated; lips parted as his chest rose and fell with heavy breathes. Robert still looked quite proper, but the blush staining his pale features stuck out even more than Booker's flushed features; his green eyes dilated just as much as the other male's.

"Holy shit." Booker sighed. Any coherent thoughts were gone, Robert's hand still working him up with a firm touch. The brunette's hips pushed up into that touch, his hands trailing down the redhead's clothed body; groping Robert's ass and encouraging him closer, closer, closer. So close that Robert had to remove his hand from Booker; their bodies flush against each other.

Booker couldn't help the moans that fell from his lips, grinding up against Robert through his pants. The redhead's hips moved along with Booker's, his hands occupying themselves with running their fingers through Booker's hair and pulling sharply to get him to expose his neck, earning a half hurt, half pleasured, choked-off groan.

Robert wasted no time, diving in and placing kisses along Booker's sharp, scruffy jawline; the tickle of short hairs brushing against his lips every time he kissed more pleasurable than he expected. He nipped at random patches of skin here and there, sucking at it lightly just enough to make a visible mark that would last for a day or so. His fingers still combed through Booker's short hair, both of their hips moving with a found rhythm set by the push and pull of Booker's strong hands kneading Robert's ass.

Robert could feel Booker's cock grinding against his own; both straining against their pants. One of Robert's hands trailed down between the two, fumbling with the belt buckle, button and zipper of Booker's pants before reaching in, pushing down his underwear just enough to pull out his cock to open air, stroking it a few times before his other hand came down from Booker's hair to undo his own pants; doing the same and pulling himself out of the confines of his clothing. Once that was finished, his hands trailed up Booker's body slowly, palms flush against the layers of clothing the man wore, until his fingers tangled in the man's hair once more.

"Say," Robert nearly whispered, his lips pressed against Booker's ear. "Have you ever been on the bottom before?" Even though he was in such a hot and heavy moment, he still sounded rather collected; his voice leveled and controlled.

"N...No." Booker swallowed, his voice, on the other hand, wavering. "No, I haven't."

Robert pressed searing kisses against Booker's jawline, close to his ear, as his hands traveled down Booker's body once more; slipping down the back of the man's pants to cup both of his cheeks in his hands, kneading them slowly.

"Are you willing to?"

Booker gulped once more. He didn't respond just yet, his chest rising and falling quickly with short breaths. His cock, still trapped between their two bodies and side by side with the redhead's, throbbed at the other man's words. Booker's been with men before, but he's always been on top; choosing to be the one in control rather than the one vulnerable and writhing as they were fucked into the mattress.

"Y-Yes...yes. Please." Booker was apprehensive, but the thought of spreading his legs for this mysterious gentleman that he barely knew anything of, that was fairly lean and lanky compared to his own muscular, built frame...a man so calm and collected bending him over and taking him, seeing him so vulnerable and out of control...the thought made him audibly moan.

"Turn around."

With that command, the redhead pulled back, allowing Booker to turn around and lean on the bar counter; his elbows and forearms resting on the surface. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt the gentleman's warm hands pulling down his pants just past his knees; pushing up the back of his shirt and vest to reveal some of his muscular back.

Those hands pulled back for a second, and after a few moments there was the sound of shifting and a jar being opened.

"What are you-"

"Relax. This will be a bit uncomfortable."

Booker did as he was told, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt fingers coated in something cold press up against his entrance.

"Shhh." Robert hushed him, pushing in his index finger slowly inside. His other hand continuously moved over the man's body to soothe him further; over his back, up to his shoulder blades only to move downwards once more to his ass and over the back of one of his thighs. The intrusion wasn't very painful, for it was more odd feeling than anything else. Booker's palms were clammy, eyes still shut tight and teeth together.

That one finger pressed against his inner walls gently, searching for that bundle of nerves that would make it pleasurable for the man. It took a few minutes, but Robert could tell he had found it by the way Booker suddenly clenched around him and gasped; his hips stuttering.

"C-Christ-"

"There we go." Robert whispered, as if to himself. "Now, I'm going to add another. Do be patient." Booker nodded in response.

Robert's middle finger joined his index right alongside, pressing in carefully. Now, he could slowly but surely begin to open up Booker and prepare him; scissoring his fingers in and out of the man all the while separating them more and more as he moved. His other hand now loosely wrapped around Booker's cock, pumping it now and then to keep the man's pleasure up.

When he deemed Booker prepared enough, he withdrew his fingers and took a moment to slick himself up before wiping off his hands with a rag from the bar; placing one hand on the other man's hip.

"Ready?" Robert asked, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up at Booker's entrance; pressing the blunt head of his arousal just against the other man.

"M-Mhm." Booker nodded. "Go ahead." He took another deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the feeling of another man being inside him; for being on the bottom for the first time in his life.

Using his hand not resting on Booker's hip, Robert guided himself into the man. When he was sheathed all the way inside, he rested the other hand on Booker's other hip; holding him in place. He began to move in and out shallowly so that Booker could get used to the feeling (and he would be lying if he said he didn't want to hear the man beg a little bit).

"It's alright, you can go f-faster." Booker breathed, his voice wavering.

"As you wish." Robert spoke, his voice still calm and collected. He began to fasten his pace, Booker's body beginning to be pushed forwards slightly with the movement. He was biting his fist to swallow back any lewd noises that were trying to escape him, eyes still shut tight as he rocked with movement. Robert noticed this; his grip tightening on Booker's hips as he started to thrust harder, faster into the man. That earned him a mix of a gasp and a whimper, still muffled by the man's mouth on his fist.

"There's no need to hold back any lewd noises." Robert bent down, over Booker's half exposed back to begin peppering kisses and sharp nips against the skin of Booker's throat. "No one is here, and frankly, I would love to hear you."

Booker groaned in response, blushing hard with embarrassment by the man's words. Though, he couldn't help how his cock throbbed and he pushed back on Robert's thrusts eagerly; a writhing mess beneath the redheaded man.

When he didn't move his hand from his mouth, one of Robert's hands shot up to pull it away and pin him by the wrist to the counter; Booker's mouth falling open and allowing all of those hidden moans to suddenly escape him. He knew he was vocal during sex, but being on the receiving end, he was only worse; louder. The sounds that spilled from his lips he never heard from himself before; high pitched whimpers and whines littered with curses. This only made his blush worsen.

"There we go. Much better." Robert whispered right up against Booker's ear, nibbling at his earlobe before continuing to suck and kiss at the man's neck.

Booker came undone quickly. He writhed and moaned; pushing back against Robert's thrusts and pleading between lewd, desperate whimpers for the redhead to go faster, harder. His knees were weak and he felt like he was going to all-out collapse once Robert began to stroke him in time with their movements, the pleasure building up faster than he expected it to.

"F-Fuck- holy s-shit-" Booker cursed, the sound of skin on skin and his own moans so loud in his ears, yet the only noises coming out of the redhead were low grunts. The fact that he could feel the other man's clothes rubbing up against him as they moved, the fact that the other man was still fully dressed save for his cock pulled out of his pants just to fuck him, made Booker all the more aroused.

Booker barely had the voice to warn the other man before he came, spilling over the redhead's fingers as he continued to be stroked and fucked through his orgasm; his voice breaking as he cried out, clenching hard around Robert's cock. Robert couldn't help but groan at this, continuing to fuck Booker even after he came.

Though, right when Robert was going to come, his thrusts slowed and came to a stop; still halfway inside of the exhausted man.

After a few seconds of everything being still, the only sound being Booker panting, Booker began to push back against the redhead knowing that he hadn't come yet. He clawed at the surface of the bar, teeth clenched as he pushed himself down onto Robert over and over; whimpering from overstimulation.

"K-Keep going-" Booker gasped, speaking through clenched teeth. "Go on- f-fuck- c-come on- this is b-becoming more stressful than re-relaxing-" A high-pitched whine escaped him.

"It isn't my fault you take it like a virgin sixteen year old." Robert huffed, beginning to move once more. He didn't move as fast or rough as before, slowly pistoning in and out of Booker as to not totally break the man. Booker grunted in irritation at Robert's statement, yet didn't respond to it.

"Just- f-fucking keep going. If I get to come, you get to come." Booker cursed. "J-Just- come on!" He raised his voice, pushing back harder onto Robert. He shivered every time Robert's cock brushed up against that sensitive bundle of nerves, his softening cock still continuing to twitch each time it happened.

Robert huffed once more, but straightened up, placing both hands on Booker's waist and began to fuck him at a steady pace all the while keeping mostly quiet; occasionally grunting here and there with exertion, but that was all. After a minute or so, he stilled; a relieved groan falling from his lips as he came deep inside of Booker.

He took a minute to breathe. After he began to soften, he pulled out of the other man; watching as a bit of come leaked out of the man's entrance. It was an erotic sight, but both of them didn't have to time to waste, so he sighed and grabbed the rag from the bar the he had used before to wipe off his hands.

He wiped the come and lubricant off of himself, tucking his member back into his clothing and getting himself back in order before he carefully pulled apart Booker's cheeks to wipe Booker's leaking, used entrance gingerly as to not hurt the man. Booker gasped slightly at the rough feeling of the rag against such a sensitive area, but nothing more.

"All cleaned up." Robert stated, throwing the rag off to the side. The bar was already a mess.

"Thanks." Booker responded, voice hoarse. He stood up, wincing slightly; grabbing the rag to wipe off his cock before getting his pants back in order.

Once they were both cleaned up, they faced each other. Booker had a hard time looking the other man in the eye, the blush from before returning to his cheeks. Even after such an intense meeting, the redhead looked decent and professional, save for the tinge of pink on his freckled cheeks and the satisfied glint in his eye.

"That was...great." Booker cleared his throat, not knowing exactly what to say. "Thank you."

"It was no problem." The side of Robert's lips quirked up into a faint smirk. "I wouldn't be against having you take the leading role some time in the future. That is, if we ever do such a thing again."

Booker looked Robert in the eye. If he wasn't so exhausted and achy, he wouldn't mind going another round with the mysterious man. He didn't say the thought out loud, though.

"I wouldn't mind it either, heh." Booker rubbed the back of his neck, a smirk appearing on his own features.

"Hello, brother." Rosalind suddenly interrupted them, appearing in the hallway to what seemed like the kitchen area holding a tray with a bottle of something yellow balanced on top of it. "I do apologize for being late."

"Ah, it's not a problem, sister." Robert responded. They both shared a knowing glance. Even if her mouth didn't change, Robert could sense the smirk she wanted to don.

Booker cleared his throat, face pink as he gathered up his weapons and such.

"Aperitif?" Rosalind held out the tray with the bottled yellow liquid.

Booker spared one last glance at Robert, who was casually cleaning the top of the bar counter with a clean rag. Heart beating a beat faster at the event which partook just minutes before, he turned back to Rosalind and took the bottle from the tray.


End file.
